In the Name of Honor
by malecanddestiel
Summary: While staying in Egypt under the command of Julius Caesar, Alec, a young guard, meets the captivating and mysterious Lector Priest Magnus. As and affair flourishes between Caesar and the beautiful Cleopatra, another might grow. Because I had to make Alec a Roman soldier.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I know it stinks reading these words, but: this is my first fanfic. Hopefully it won't suck. I would very much appreciate no hate. :) Enjoy!**

The room stank; a mixture of herbs, smoke and human waste made for a stench that made any stomach keel. But it was the only place Magnus could find solitude these days. The power struggle between Ptolemy and Cleopatra was coming to a head, and Magnus was right in the middle of it all. He barely trusted anyone anymore, and he was smart not to. Spies on both sides slithered through the palace halls; digging around for information about who opposes whom and reporting the "traitors" back to their employers. Thankfully though, there were some perks to being Lector Priest. Magnus could spend hours alone in the Room of Rites without anyone daring to bother him..

Sitting there, Magnus' mind was uneasy. It raced through the events of the day, Magnus' anger smoldering with each passing memory. His scowl deepened when a royal guard knocked on his door and announced "Master Priest, sir! You have an urgent visitor! Shall I send him in?"

"If you must," Magnus growled. It was probably that sad excuse for a pharaoh, looking for Magnus to perform some petty magic that would help him become a man sooner or-

"Ragnor! What are you doing here?"

"Well what the hell did you expect me to do, you dumbass? Sit around while my best friend mopes in the magic pit, letting the entire palace think you're crazy?"

The man who had entered the room was Magnus' best friend; the only person in the palace Magnus knew he could trust enough to confide in. He was a tall and skinny blonde, though he wasn't as tall as Magnus. The nineteen year old crossed his arms over his chest accusingly.

Magnus rolled his eyes. "I happen to have very good reasons to mope. And Ragnor, we're magicians. Everyone either thinks us crazy or thinks us something other than human. Sometimes both."

If Ragnor was at all fazed by Magnus' reply, he didn't show it. "Alright, then. You're dying to tell me. What's on your mind?"

Magnus glared at him. "Don't get me started."

"If I don't, you'll just be an angry bitch until it's out of your system."

Magnus sighed and raked a hand through his long black hair. "It's that boy again."

"Which one?" Ragnor asked. "That peasant kid who thinks it's funny to throw rocks at those of higher status? Because I understand why you'd be moping. He's been targeting me ever since that protection spell I had to-"

"Ragnor, no. Not him. Ptolemy."

"You mean the Pharaoh," Ragnor snorted. "Pardon me for not realizing you were addressing His Majesty when you said 'that boy'." Ragnor sat on the floor next to Magnus, sensing the inevitable lengthy talk.

"Whatever. He is only a boy; he's twelve. Anyway, that brat called me at noon to discuss the execution of Pompey. He was asking my opinion, as a Lector Priest, if disposing of him now would get him in trouble with the gods. I told him that killing a man who never harmed Egypt was not a wise decision. I figured of course he'd listen to me in a situation this important, but no. His advisor stepped in and proclaimed that Pompey is an enemy of Julius Caesar's and we must kill him to get on Caesar's good side." Magnus slumped in the chair he was sitting on. "Anyway, Pompey will be executed tonight and I must assist with the death rituals."

"So Pharaoh Ptolemy XIII has yet again overruled the word of a priest." Ragnor looked grave. "It's happening a lot more often now, Mags. I don't know what's doing it, but Egypt is not as great as it used to be. Something has broken."

Magnus snorted. "Yeah, it broke when Pharaoh Ptolemy XII gave the throne to both of his children."

"But don't let it bring you down too long, Magnus. Our magic is needed by every stupid bloke on the streets; if the government crumbles, our assistance and connection with the gods will be all the people have left."

Magnus knew what Ragnor meant, and he rolled his eyes. "Because they're idiots." The second the hierarchy of the Egyptian empire lost enough control to cause it to crumble, people from far and wide would journey to their priests to get protection from the demons that seem to be corrupting the world, or to get reassurance on how the gods were taking the whole ordeal. Magnus thought those people were petty and weak; as a Lector Priest, he knew that his job was simply the work of a few ridiculous dances and chanted words. There was no such thing as magic, after all, and the citizens of his empire were stupid enough to not realize that.

"Come on, we need to get you to a more comfortable place. If you're going to perform that spell tonight, you need to relax and get away from all this drama." Ragnor hauled Magnus to his feet by his wrist, and hauled him out of the Room of Rites and to his sleeping quarters. There, Magnus promptly collapsed on his bed.

"I need a nap," he informed his friend.

"That you do," Ragnor chuckled. "Don't worry, I'll wake you up a while before the execution. The spell is at dusk."

Magnus nodded his thanks to Ragnor and drifted off to the intoxicating oblivion of sleep.

A swift punch in the arm was what greeted Magnus back to the world of the conscious.

"What in the name of Ra was that for?" Magnus snapped. He rolled over on his mattress and spotted Ragnor leaning over him.

"The execution is going to take place soon," was all Ragnor said. Magnus groaned and sat up.

"Did the royal guard let you it?" Magnus asked.

"Who, the guard assigned to your quarters? Yes, he did let me in. In fact," Ragnor's mood visibly brightened, "he knows me quite well. His name is Dakarai." Magnus wisely decided to ignore that information and the implications behind it.

"Fine, whatever." Magnus realized he was still dressed in his robe he'd worn to meet with Ptolemy, and that it was wrinkled and creased. "Thank you for waking me. Now get out and fetch me a servant, Ragnor, unless you'd like to watch me undress."

Ragnor grinned and walked to the door. "I'm sorry, but that's a view I hope I never have to treat myself to. After all, my preferences are slightly different from yours." _I suppose he only meant he knows Dakarai as a friend_, Magnus thought as Ragnor left. Magnus doubted he would get a servant. _Guess I'll have to dress myself, _he thought. _How unfortunate for the lucky servant who would get to do the honor_.

Magnus picked out a slightly less colorful robe, because he was sure dressing in flowing rainbow robes would not be appreciated at an execution. He then grabbed his long curved ivory wand and made his way out of the room, not forgetting to nod appreciatively to Dakarai.

"So Ptolemy wanted a _protection_ spell at an execution?" Ragnor raised a thick eyebrow and glanced over at Magnus. Usually protection spells were used to create amulets for the citizens or to put around woman giving birth.

"Yeah," Magnus answered in a whisper. "He doesn't want any divine beings interfere with what his royal advisor believes to be an 'imperative death'." He tried to keep the contempt out of his voice, but not very successfully.

Ragnor and Magnus were lined up with the other royal Lector Priests—so, two other people—and they were on the small raised stage, surrounded by the deafening crowd. Magnus had already drawn a circle around the place where Pompey was kneeled with his ivory wand, and he had already stomped around the circle, chanting and banging on a drum. Yes, Egyptian spells were a very intricate and complicated thing.

"My people! Quiet: your King Ptolemy is present," a chubby twelve year old cried. "You all know of Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus: the Roman general and politician who dared to betray Caesar." The crowd booed, and Magnus nudged Ragnor.

"He's got a nice cognomen," Magnus snickered.

"You share a name with a lunatic," Ragnor said, nodding. "Congratulations."

"SILENCE!" Ptolemy cried. "His actions against Caesar are only punishable by death, and here in Egypt we have no place for him; a man who can only bring trouble. He ran rogue and tried defeat bring Caesar on the plains of Pharsalus. This man has more than double the amount of men, yet still he lost and tried to find refuge here, in Alexandria. We will not let him use us! We will destroy him first!"

The large crowd cheered at the king's words, and the executioner swung the axe.

Magnus sighed as Pompey flopped forward, motionless. Blood ran across the stage. "At least Caesar will be happy with this," Magnus grumbled to Ragnor. His grumbling had to be loud; the crowd was screaming with delight. "After all, I hear he's pardoning all of his enemies. It would be kind of annoying to have to pardon your worst enemy."


	2. Chapter 2

**I realized I had a line break issue, and I fixed it! Hopefully it'll be less confusing to read now. Sorry this took a while to get posted! Oh and thank you sherlockiansarcasm, for writing the story with me. I realized you aren't getting any credit. :) Cassie Clare owns 'em.**

Caesar was most undoubtedly not happy, that much was certain. In fact, the man was livid.

Alec was sure that, after defeating Pompey the Great at the battle of Pharsalus with less than half the amount of men, looking like a hero for pardoning his enemies, and being able to pardon even Brutus, Caesar would finally be content with his work. But no, right after Alec had allowed the skinny little messenger into Caesar's tent the dictator called together his troops and stood before them with an announcement.

"Wonder what it is now," Simon whispered in Alec's ear. Alec shrugged and didn't reply. Unlike Simon, Alec didn't want to be caught talking. As one of his few personal guards, Alec cared what Julius Caesar thought of him. Simon didn't; he came from a family that secretly detested Caesar, but was too afraid to say so and put their son in the army to prove their "loyalty".

"My men." Julius' strong voice rang out around their camp, and Alec was impressed. The anger that had been in the man's voice when he had dismissed the messenger no longer was audible in his tone. The four thousand lucky legionaries who had survived the battle of Pharsalus listened intently. "I know that roughly seventeen thousand died in the last battle we fought. And I know that, though you got to rest while I pardoned the enemies, you are still tired. You work hard, my men, and I appreciate you all for that. But we have another mission, and yet another step before winning this war." Alec knew it was not a war, not really; more of a fight to get Caesar on top of the hierarchy of the world. "My messenger has informed me that Pompey Magnus has escaped and left to talk refuge in Alexandria. We must go after him. Once upon a time, Pompey and I were great friends. He even married my daughter Julia. I must pardon him, as any respectable man would.

"Now, I must get on to the more important reason I am speaking with you all. We are going to the dangerous lands of Egypt, and I need more personal guards than the mere four I have now, though they are the best." Alec found himself nearly blushing at the mention of his talents, but Caesar quickly moved on. "I will be appointing six more of the best men. Come up if your name is mentioned."

A gruff, broad-chested man stepped up next to Julius Caesar. "The newest guards are to be trained by the current guards: Jordan Kyle, Alexander Lightwood, James Carstairs and Raphael Santiago. The newest guards' names are: Simon Lewis, Eric... Er, I can't read your last name. I think it says Loins?" The man scratched his head and went back to reading the last names. Alec didn't hear them, however, because Simon was squealing in his ear.

"Hear that? I'm a guard! I'm talented! Julius Caesar's weird, hairy, burly man thinks I'm talented and named me guard! It's a Saturnalia miracle!" Then Simon covered his mouth, apparently realizing he was making a lot of noise.

"That is all. Rest up; we're leaving for Alexandria tomorrow." The crowd of men slowly dispersed and Alec led Simon near Caesar's tent; where Alec would be posted for a portion of the night.

"This is great!" Alec said happily. "We can guard Caesar into hours of the night not even Pluto would dare stay awake to see, together."

Simon jumped on the balls of his feet and grinned. "I can't believe this. You know what? I don't hate Caesar." Then he froze. "Alec, Caesar thinks I'm worthy to be his guard. What will my mom think?"

"Your mom is safe, back in Rome." Alec rolled his eyes. "There's no way she'll find out unless you tell her when we return home."

Simon sighed. "I sometimes wonder if we ever are going to return home."

"Into your tents, now!" someone yelled from across the camp. "Guards on duty!"

"See you in the morning," Alec said to Simon, trotting over to Caesar's tent. He would run, but his armor weighed him down. That was a downside if being a guard; even when the other soldiers got to rest, you were up and covered in metal.

"This is going to be a long night, but I think James and Raphael are coming to take over earlier tonight," Jordan informed Alec.

"Good, I need to sleep," Alec grumbled.

Jordan laughed bitterly and moved to stand beside Alec. "Don't we all?"

* * *

"Alexandria is in sight, sir."

Alec nearly screamed in relief. He'd been positioned outside of Julius' cabin with Raphael, and the galley's rocking was making him seasick. Sleeping seemed to be Alec's only escape from the feeling. Luckily, Alec was spared the duty of being one of the many rowers. He surely would've puked over the side if the rail and humiliated himself if he had done that job. _The many perks of being Caesar's bitch,_ Alec thought.

Thank the gods that a legionary had come to tell Caesar that Alexandria was close. It was encouragement to last the whole way without throwing up on Raphael, who hated Alec enough already.

"Thank you." Caesar then emerged from his cabin with the legionary behind him. "Follow me, you two." Raphael and Alec obeyed instantly. They walked side by side a few steps behind Caesar. "We will sail into the harbor. I will take my personal guards and go directly to the palace to meet with Ptolemy XIII. Guards!"

The nine other men Alec worked with immediately moved to stand behind Caesar. "Theodotus, you will be leading the men to make camp," Caesar called out. Alec heard a muffled 'yes, sir' in response. The boat sailed toward their destination.

Standing next to Caesar, Alec felt rather small. Not, of course, physically: he was almost a head taller and was more muscled. But Caesar carried himself like someone with the height and strength of a giant. He had a confidence that Alec, a tall and rather awkward eighteen year old, did not possess.

Alec looked up sharply when the ship came to an abrupt halt. Ropes were thrown down to the ground, sails were furled, and men got their few possessions and prepared to leave. Alec looked around at the many other ships going through the same routine, and was in awe at the power his leader commanded. Gaius Julius Caesar was a man to admire.

A plank was lowered onto the ground and Caesar motioned for his guards to follow him. After moving Simon so he was in the correct position, Alec fell into step behind his leader.

"I want you all to wait until Theodotus is ready to move. He will lead you to set up camp, and if all goes well I will return to you by dusk," Julius Caesar called. He grabbed his horse- the eleven horses for Julius and his guards had been stowed on another ship- and Alec mounted a black horse he'd never seen before. _I'll call her Shadow, _he thought with amusement at his own sentimentality. The horses were not to be named, except Caesar's white horse named Victory. So Alec took great pleasure in naming them all.

"Umbra," Alec muttered to the horse. "It suits you." Apparently the horse didn't understand him, because Alec didn't get a response.

"Follow me; I know the way to the palace. We'll have to be let in by guards, but I have no doubt King Ptolemy will welcome us," Caesar called to his ten guards.

Alec's hand subconsciously moved to his sword sheathed by his side; this was dangerous. With one wrong move, one offense to Egypt, and the Egyptian guards could easily shoot down Caesar and his ten guards. But Alec knew that if Caesar marched his whole army to the doorstep of Ptolemy's palace just to be safe, it could be seen as a declaration of a battle and they could be met with Egyptian soldiers. It was pretty much disaster either way.

The trek to the palace nearly took until mid-afternoon and Alec knew there was no way they'd return to the camp by dusk. Once they arrived, though, Alec knew the long ride had been worth it. The palace had two, huge main buildings and a few smaller ones around them. Alec shrunk at the size of them; he'd never seen such grand architecture. Guards lined the outskirts of the palace yard and it was obvious they had already known they were coming. This didn't faze Caesar, and he rode his horse up to the grand entrance.

"Welcome, Gaius Julius Caesar, to our humble palace," one of the guards said as he opened the giant wooden door.

Julius didn't say anything, he just rode up the steps and into the palace. Alec followed him like the rest of the guards. After crossing through the stony glare of two jackals outside of the palace, the small party entered. Columns painted w incredible skill lined the space, and dark hallways branched off into the depths of the palace. Eerie shadows, cast by torches along the wall, flickered on the face of a stern boy who must have been the pharaoh. The boy had two men standing by his side, though they did not seem like guards.

"We will take your horses, sirs," said a young Egyptian Alec assumed was a servant. She was speaking choppy Latin. Alec nodded and dismounted, and he walked over with the other guards. Simon followed him.

"Pharaoh Ptolemy XIII," Caesar greeted, bowing deeply. "It is a pleasure to be in Alexandria."

"And it is a pleasure to have you here, Gaius Julius Caesar," Pharaoh Ptolemy said stiffly. His Latin, like the servants, was slow and obviously unused. Alec looked up at him. He was wearing a headdress and plenty of jewelry. If what Alec had heard about Egyptians was true, the jewelry was most likely real gold and the thinness of his linen cloth symbolized his wealth. The pharaoh was sitting in a high throne engraved with hieroglyphs and surrounded by servants. He was chubby and short, seemingly harmless, but something about the look in his eyes made Alec feel unsettled. He knew the rumor; Ptolemy XIII had kicked his own sister out of the city so he could rule for himself. "What is it that brings you?"

"I have come searching for Gnaeus Pompius Magnus," Caesar announced. Ptolemy didn't look surprised. "Do you or any of your entourage know of his location?"

Ptolemy nodded. "You'll be pleased to know we have seen Pompey Magnus."

"Oh?" Alec had worked for Caesar long enough to know that expression; it was when he knew he had won.

"Yes," the chubby young Pharaoh replied. "We had him executed only last night."

Caesar's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. A split second later, two men entered the room through one of the hallways Alec had noticed. "Julius Caesar, sir, is Ptolemy Magnus' execution not good news for you?"

Alec looked up at the velvety voice and was completely stopped in his tracks by what he saw. The man was gorgeous.

His tan, muscled chest was bare, like most of the Egyptian men's, and he was wearing a thin and colorful linen skirt that hit mid-calf. It was held up by a belt, though it hung a little lower than his companion's. A few amulets hung from his neck, and rings and bracelets decorated his arms and hands. The man's kohl-covered eyes stared at Caesar directly.

Caesar didn't answer right away, but when he did his voice was strained. "I-I did want to see Pompey here, but I appreciate you, Your Majesty, for...killing him."

The beautiful man nodded. "I knew it." Alec was very impressed with his speech. His Latin flowed and he spoke it as if he had been his whole life. He turned to the shorter blonde man next to him. "Didn't I say so, Ragnor?" Ragnor replied in Egyptian and the man turned back to Ptolemy. "I advised you not to kill Pompey, sir, but you went ahead and killed him anyways. It shows you that you must start treating your Lector Priests with the respect we deserve-"

"That's enough, Priest Bane. You heard Caesar- he doesn't mind," one of the men beside the pharaoh said. _Bane, _Alec thought to himself. _That's his name._

Priest Bane's smug expression changed to one that looked thoroughly peeved. "Sir, I-" he froze and Alec blushed. The Priest was staring right at him with his mouth agape. Then he closed his mouth and looked away. "Alright, sir. I apologize for even bringing it up."

"That's fine, I forgive you for your mistake," Ptolemy said in his childlike bossy tone. "Is there any reason why you and Priest Fell are even in this room?"

"Well," the man who Magnus had addressed as 'Ragnor'-his name must've been Ragnor Fell-said, "Magnus and I were just leaving the palace. Someone has requested a curse spell from us."

Magnus grinned and his green eyes shone, "Do you need our assistance, Your Majesty?"

Ptolemy XIII nodded. "Yes, but it can wait. Be back before dusk." Alec's heart sunk. _I'll be long gone before then. _"But first: bring over that bowl." Magnus gave him a questioning glance and grabbed said bowl from a guard. "Uncover the lid."

Alec nearly passed out. Inside of the bowl was Gnaeus Pompius Magnus' severed head. Magnus lurched back with a look of horror on his face and shoved the bowl at Caesar.

Julius Caesar took the bowl and showed it to his guards. Then Alec heard Simon's breathing.

"By the gods, by the gods, Alec his _head_-"

"Just breathe, Simon. It's okay." Alec rubbed circles into Simon's back and kept talking to him. "Stay with me, Simon."

At that point everyone was staring at them. Alec flushed from the attention. "H-he isn't used to decapitation, sir," Alec told Caesar in a shaky voice. "Please, don't punish him."

Caesar sighed and growled, "Take him elsewhere, Alexander."

"Yes, sir," Alec nodded, leading Simon over to the horses.

Simeon's breathing slowed, and he let go of Alec, "That was horrible." Alec agreed.

"Thank you, Ptolemy, your guard can take this back now," Caesar's annoyance was clear in his tone. He gave the head to the guard and Ptolemy nodded to Magnus and Ragnor, allowing them to leave.

The two Lector Priests walked towards the exit and it seemed everyone in the room but Alec forgot they had even been talking. Alec's eyes followed Magnus as he made his way out the door, but he wasn't sure whether or not he was seeing things when Magnus turned around and winked at him.

* * *

"We will be staying here for the night and going back to the camp in the morning," Caesar told his guards. "Or rather, I will get going with my six newest guards to head back to camp tomorrow. You all," Caesar pointed at Alec, Jordan, Raphael, and James, "better get comfy, because we'll be staying for quite a while."

Alec didn't know what Caesar was up to, because as far as he knew the man had only wanted to stay to capture and pardon Pompey.

A few servants walked over and one of them said something in Egyptian. "They will show you to your sleeping quarters," Caesar translated. "Your rooms will be near mine, but there is no need for you to guard me when the Egyptians have royal guards to do the work."

The servants started walking towards a hallway and Caesar's guards robotically followed them. Alec wondered what they looked like to the Egyptians. _Probably mindless attack dogs who bow to Caesar's every word_, Alec thought bitterly.

The servants stopped at the beginning of a short corridor. The guards marched into it and Alec pulled Simon into one of the rooms.

"I don't trust these guys," Simon hissed.

"Me either," Alec nodded. He certainly didn't like Ptolemy; Magnus was a different story. "We'll sleep in shifts just in case."

Alec took first shift, so he flopped onto his bed and watched Simon curl up and go to sleep.

_I don't know what Caesar is doing here, but I hope he gets it done quickly, _Alec thought. _Magnus may be...nice, but this is dangerous._

**Reviews are love!**


	3. Chapter 3

**HOLY CRAP. So many reviews. :D Thank you all, you lovely people! You are all so wonderful. ****And, of course, thanks to the lovely sherlockiansarcasm! You, Cat, are such a help. **

**CC owns these guys.**

* * *

Magnus groaned as he stretched his arms over his head and felt his muscles stretch. He'd had the worst night's sleep ever. Mostly because it was haunted with images of Roman soldiers. Or rather: one soldier in particular. Which was definitely stupid. _One pretty face doesn't make Caesar invading Egypt anything short of horrifying,_ Magnus thought.

"Master Priest, sir?" Magnus turned to the door.

"Dakarai?" Magnus asked.

The guard standing in the doorway bowed. "You have been invited for breakfast with the pharaoh and the Romans," Dakarai said.

This news was absolutely dreadful. The room was certain to be filled with tension and hostility; two things Magnus preferred to avoid.

"Thank you for the message," Magnus said glumly. He was already dressed in his casual day attire, so he quickly tied a leopard skin robe around his neck. Then, thinking of the pretty Roman, Magnus applied the kohl around his eyes with extra carefulness.

Magnus was surprised to find that, when he walked into the room where breakfast would take place, everyone was already there. His eyes immediately sought out the blue eyed Roman and spotted him next to the soldier that had nearly passed out at the sight of Pompey's severed head. His hair was deliciously ruffled from his night sleep, and he looked weighed down from the armor he wore.

"Magnus, over here." Magnus turned and stood beside Ragnor. He was next to the two other Lector Priests-Camille Belcort and the newer man Magnus didn't know the name of.

"Thank you for joining us, Priest Bane," Pharaoh Ptolemy said. Magnus wanted to slap him for the obvious sarcasm in the boy's voice. Ptolemy sat at the head of the table that Caesar and his guards were sitting at. Of course, Caesar and his goons get to sit, but Ptolemy's priests have to stand next to the pharaoh, Magnus thought.

"Dictator Caesar, we've prepared this meal to formally welcome you to Alexandria and the palace." Magnus didn't have to look up to recognize Pothinus' know-it-all voice.

"How flattering," Caesar replied curtly. "And you might be...?"

"This is Pothinus," Ptomey introduced. "And next to him is his brother, Achillas. Pothinus is my personal advisor and my regent. Achillas is my best guardian and leader of my troops."

Caesar nodded and Magnus figured he was just happy that Alexandria wasn't only run by twelve year olds.

"Now Caesar, you came originally looking for Pompey," Ptolemy said carefully. "I informed you I had killed him, yet you remain here." Caesar didn't say anything when Ptolemy paused, so the young king elaborated. "If you don't mind my asking; why is this?"

Caesar looked at Ptolemy and smiled. It was cold and mocking. "I don't mind your asking. In fact, I was expecting it. Ptolemy XIII, do you remember just how much debt your father put your kingdom in? How much, exactly, that you owe me?"

Ptolemy looked to Pothinus, who replied with a quiet, "S-six thousand talents."

Caesar nodded. "After your father and I made our little deal to keep him on Egypt's throne, Rome and Egypt became close allies. So not only do you owe this to me, you should give in and shelter an ally with grace."

Pothinus looked at Caesar with horrified realization. "You want to make sure we pay our debts." Magnus had to admit, Pothinus had balls.

"Well of course, Patronus. It's only fair." Pothinus' eyes flashed, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he nodded and looked down.

"Caesar, sir." Everyone looked at me Magnus when he spoke, and the attention was not the kind he liked. "For what do you need thirty-one thousand men if you only want to make sure Egypt pays her debts?"

Caesar looked at Magnus and scowled. Magnus had to admit though, he did prefer Caesar's current angry scowl over his previously secretive grin.

"I don't know where you get your information, scantily dressed priest, but you're wrong. I have thirty-two thousand men, not thirty-one thousand. I need them so that you Egyptians understand clearly that I can, and will, take action if I do not get the money that I loaned to you back. Right now you are not an enemy of mine, and for your sake, I hope it stays that way."

Magnus cursed Ragnor's bad memory with numbers. He was, after all, where Magnus got his information.

"Now I want you all to listen carefully to my needs," Julius Caesar said. "I brought some of my soldiers into your city; they will need a place to lodge. I expect them all to have a place to stay by nightfall. My guards and I will be staying in this palace. Don't bother trying to get rid of them or myself; they are the best out of the thousands of men I have and I can always send for backup. I will go about my business here and none of you will ask questions. Is this clear?"

Magnus met the blue eyes of the Roman guard as Caesar finished stating his demands. The boy frowned and a faint flush appeared on his cheeks. In that moment, he almost looked apologetic. _Snap out of it, Bane. He's a guard of Caesar's_, Magnus chided himself._ He'd lay down his life for the maniac, of course he doesn't feel sorry for you._

Ptolemy nodded in response to Caesar's question. "As clear as the Nile on a hot summer day!" he piped up.

Magnus caught himself before he face-palmed.

"Good," Caesar replied. "Now please explain what your priests are doing here."

"As the closest human beings to the gods, my priests are excellent judges of character," Ptolemy replied. "I will speak with them after about how they feel about this situation."

Oh. _I'm supposed to be analyzing the situation for the idiot. Right._

"And how does the situation look so far?" Caesar asked the priests. Magnus glanced at Camille and Ragnor; the weird new priest seemed to busy trying not to wet himself to talk.

"It seems..." Ragnor trailed off.

"It seems as if we must bow down to your rule and, in return, you won't kill us," Camille picked up bravely.

"You are correct, Ptolemy," Caesar said, studying Camille like she was his prey. "They are excellent judges of character and situations. Now, would you please send for some food? I'm starved."

* * *

Magnus and the other Lector Priests left once the servants came with bread and figs for the guests. Magnus started for the Room of Rites. Also known as his sulking room.

Unfortunately, Ragnor grabbed his arm before he could get anywhere. "Ragnor, seriously-"

"Magnus. I figured you'd try to run away from our problem," Ragnor snorted.

"Which one?" Magnus snapped.

"_The_ problem," Ragnor said slowly, as if that explained everything. "We have a job. Remember? Ptolemy gave it to us last night?"

Right. The job.

"And you want to do it now? Caesar isn't even done eating," Magnus said.

Ragnor rolled his eyes. "Mags, we can wait outside his room. The meeting will be done by the time we get there."

Magnus groaned and turned to the hallway that lead to Caesar's room. "Fine, let's go."

Ragnor was right. It took about the amount of time it took Magnus and Ragnor to get to Caesar's room before they heard two voices. Sadly, neither voice belonged to the Dictator.

"-don't get it. Why are we even here? It's not like there's anything to do in Alexandria."

"Caesar does what he wants." Oh, Magnus recognized _that_ voice.

The two guards turned the corner-the cute one with the black hair and a brown haired one he had been seated next to during breakfast.

Ragnor sighed. "Hello you two. Do you have any idea when your leader will be getting back?"

Magnus smiled slightly when he noticed the cute soldier staring at him. "I recognize you," Magnus said, ignoring Ragnor and trying for a conversation. "You are the guy who isn't used to decapitation." The brown haired soldier flushed. "And you-" Magnus turned, "-well, you helped him."

"I barely helped him. Simon was fine," he answered. "I-I'm Alec, by the way." His faint blush was noticeable, even through the helmet.

"Magnus. And this is Ragnor. Pleasure to meet you, Alec," Magnus said. Ragnor cleared his throat.

"Yes, and it's also nice to meet you, Simon," Ragnor said, looking directly at Magnus and speaking with a tone that made Magnus certain he'd be scolded later for lack of manners.

"What are you doing near Caesar's room anyway?" Simon asked. He crossed his arms and scowled.

"Waiting for Caesar, actually," Magnus said smoothly. "Of course, we don't need him to do the spell."

"Spell?" Alexander asked. Magnus watched his pale throat as he swallowed his nerves. Magnus wondered what else he could swallow.

...Then he got hard. _Fuck everything_, Magnus thought. That combined with his thin skirt was not working in Magnus' favor.

"Yes," Ragnor said. Magnus didn't even remember the question. "He and I are putting a protective spell around the room. King Ptolemy insisted."

"That's nice, but I think Alec and I can protect the room better than your noisy rituals," Simon snarled. Apparently he had been offended by Magnus not noticing him, and decided to be a grouch because of it. Alec's eyes widened at the comment and he slapped Simon on the arm- a gesture Magnus had never seen the usually stiff and emotionless Roman soldiers make.

"Gods, Simon, don't be rude," Alec scolded. Magnus grinned at his worry. As if the two priests actually believed what they do had an effect on anything.

"Don't worry, hon. As priests, we know better than anyone that our jobs are ridiculous," Magnus said to Alec.

"Right, no one can possibly connect with the gods," Ragnor added.

Magnus tried not to roll his eyes. A lot of priests did believe that magic is real. Most of them just believed that only the gods can access the magic, not priests. Ragnor believed that. Magnus though, he'd never been given a reason to believe the gods existed in the first place.

Alec was still blushing furiously. "He didn't mean any offense, though."

"Don't worry about it," Magnus said, grinning. "Just don't let him say anything like that to our pharaoh and you'll be good."

"I'll try to resist the urge," Simon snapped.

"Um, you can do the ritual if you want," Alec said, opening Caesar's door. "Can Simon and I watch?"

The idea of Alec's blue eyes on him pleased Magnus more than it should've.

"Of course you may. Watch closely," Magnus purred. He then walked past the two soldiers with Ragnor on his heels.

"Do you have your pouches?" Ragnor asked.

Magnus snorted and shook his head no.

"How shocking," Ragnor grumbled. "Don't worry, I brought two extra."

"You have no faith in me," Magnus said, shaking his head. Ragnor handed him two drawstring pouches and Magnus opened one carefully. Mixed balm and a metal pentacle. _I shouldn't have even bothered to check_, Magnus thought._ Ragnor never screws up protection spells._

Magnus hung his bags in two separately corners and Ragnor did the same.

"How are we supposed to know whether or not your stupid magic is a curse rather than protection?" Simon growled.

"You couldn't possibly know," Magnus said. Even he could hear the sneer in his voice. "Good thing you and Alec can protect the room better than my stupid magic." Okay, that was unnecessarily rude, especially to Alexander. But Magnus couldn't help it; they were with Caesar.

"How does it work?" Alec asked. "Those bags. What do they do?"

"They create a ward," Ragnor snapped. "Now, we will be leaving." He clutched Magnus' arm and started dragging him away. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Magnus wondered what was wrong.

"Nice speaking with you," Magnus said; staring at Alec. He turned so that Ragnor's dragging became less painful.

"You too." Alec's voice was dazed, and Magnus grinned when he felt the boy's gaze on his back as he left.

**Reviews are love! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry this took so long. Cat (sherlockiansarcasm- the lovely child who writes this with me) got sort of obsessed with Welcome to Night Vale and Legend of Korra. It sort of took over everything...but if you need people to fangirl with about WTNV or LoK, we're here. ;)**

** Anyways, we own nothing. Enjoy!**

Alec only realized his jaw was gaping open after Magnus had left. Lucky for him though, Simon hadn't noticed at all. He was too busy wrapped up in his own disdain for the two priests.

"Well, he thought he was all that and more, didn't he?" Simon scoffed. Alec barely heard him at all. _He was all that and more. Lots more,_ Alec thought. "_He was?_ Really, Alec? He _was_? That's all you have to say? Gods, I thought you were a good judge of character. The bastard just completely ignored me. Oh and let's not mention the weird blonde know-it-all guy. I hate Egyptians. I hate this city. I hate Caesar. We should run away."

_I said that out loud? Oops, _Alec thought.

"If we run away, Caesar will kill us," Alec said, beginning to catch back up to what Simon was blabbering on about. "We either obey or we die."

"Great job benefits," Simon muttered.

"What?" Alec asked.

"Nothing."

Alec shook his head and walked out of Caesar's room. The dictator stood with his arms crossed outside the door, flanked by the four guards that were not off-duty. _Shit._

"Fancy meeting you two here," Caesar growled softly. "It's so great to know that by 'please stand by my door' my guards think I'm saying 'go ahead and search through my room'."

"Sir, we only let in a couple priests to put a protection ward in your room," Alec said, surprising himself with the strength in his own voice. "They're the bags in the corners. You should take them out if you like; King Ptolemy was only trying to be friendly."

"I don't need orders from my guards. Get lost, you two. Raphael and Eric can take your place, since they seem to know not to trust the Egyptians." Julius waved a non-caring hand and dismissed both Alec and Simon.

Once the two boys were out of earshot from their leader, Simon grabbed Alec's arm to pull him to a stop. "What was that?"

"I don't know," Alec said. He tried and failed not to sound terrified. "Caesar's been in a forgiving mood this whole trip. What the heck is making him so happy?"

"Maybe it's his new rug," Simon snorted sarcastically.

"What? He went rug shopping?" Alec asked. Caesar would never do something so mundane and ridiculous while in Egypt's territory. Egypt, no matter how oppressed it was, was still free. Not a part of the Roman Empire. As far as Alec knew, Caesar had work to do. No way would the dictator leave without at least attempting to capture the place.

"No. It was delivered to his room yesterday. You know Caesar and his expensive items," Simon snorted. Oh yeah, Caesar was big on being worth too much. It was one of his favorite hobbies. Besides, like, taking over empires and stuff.

"Of course it was," Alec sighed. "I really hope we're here for more reasons than to put fear in the heart of the Egyptians and to acquire fancy rugs."

"We probably aren't," Simon said. His shoulders sagged. "He's been pardoning a bunch of enemies and just found out his main target is dead. He probably just wants a break for a bit. Think about it; we aren't fighting any wars. It's like a little vacation to the eldest, wisest empire in existence."

"I guess. Hey—any idea where we're going?" Alec asked. The two had begun to wander the long hallways

"No clue," Simon replied. He didn't seem very bothered by it. Alec, personally, wasn't too happy wandering the halls of the Egyptian royal palace. The high-class painted walls and beaten down earth of the ground all looked the same and was putting Alec on edge.

"Okay... Um. What do we do?" Alec said. He turned to look at Simon, who was grinning and staring down the hallway.

"I know what we do. Come on and hurry up, will you?" Simon started jogging and took a sharp right into one of the rooms. Alec followed him...right into a training room.

"Oh, this will be fun," Alec said, smirking at Simon. He took in the room; it was slightly different from Roman training areas, but not too different. Wooden and iron weapons were in piles against one wall and wooden dummies were on another side of the room. Sand was on the ground to break a fall and to let blood drain easily. For the first time in Alexandria, Alec felt at home.

"Grab a wooden spatha and scutum. Hurry," Simon said. He had already picked up one of the wooden training swords and a shield.

Alec rolled his eyes and made big show of grabbing a gladius. The spatha had only recently been introduced to the army and Alec had never really liked the weapon. "Simon, we're alone. Do you think it would matter if we took off our armor?"

The soldiers rarely got to train without the heavy armor, because they needed to learn how to be the most efficient fighter possible with the iron on their body.

"Nah, we're just screwing around. Go ahead."

The boys dumped their armor in a corner and circled each other in their knee-length tunics.

After a few hours of training, they were interrupted by the soft sound of someone clearing their throat.

Alec turned and saw an Egyptian servant. Lunch time already? Simon followed after the servant when he turned and walked out of the room, so Alec did as well. The servant led the two to a room where the rest of the guards were.

"Alexander, Simon. Get your asses over here," Jordan snapped.

"What is it?" Simon asked. "Hey, wait. Aren't you guys supposed to be guarding Caesar? I kind of thought that was the one job requirement for a guard of Caesar."

"No, he is being guarded by others. 4,000 legionaries have moved to Alexandria, so he snagged a few others. Lunch is coming, by the way," Luke answered. Alec sat down next to Simon at the long table the moment the doors opened.

Servants walked in and Alec's mouth already began watering. Whenever he was camping out in between fights the food had always been scarce. Usually he just got a small grain ration, but on a good day men would go hunt for meals. Breakfast that morning, however, showed just how great Egyptian food could be.

It was because his expectations were so high that Alec was immediately disappointed when a small wooden bowl of old grain dropped in front of him. Alec looked up in surprise and saw a man standing in the doorway, grinning. He recognized him as Pothinus, King Ptolemy's regent.

"Hello, guards of Caesar," the man said, effectively getting the attention of everyone in the room. "You've probably noticed the disgusting food we've just given you."

"Oh good, I'm glad you realize just how gross this is," Raphael snapped. "Where's our actual meal?"

"That is your actual meal. With Caesar's demands to be paid now, we've been forced to make a few minor cutbacks in order to save money. No longer will you or any of the 4,000 legionaries Julius has in Alexandria be fed fresh food, nor shall it be from any precious metal bowls or plates." Pothinus paused for what seemed like dramatic effect, or maybe he was just thinking of how to phrase his next sentence. Either way, Alec thought his face looked particularly wolfish in that moment. "I do hope you get used to it. You'll have to, since we are the ones providing food."

All the guards were shocked into silence, which Pothinus used to his advantage-he spun on a heel and dramatically exited the room.

Magnus reached behind his head and tucked his ivory wand between his neck and animal skin robe. He was sick and tired of healing spells. The old man was going to die no matter how many deity images Magus drew on his skin.

"Magnus, wait up!" Magnus stopped walking down the hallway and turned so Camille could catch up.

"Hello, Cammie. What is it?"

"Did you hear?" Camille asked him quickly. Camille was usually the type of person who used carefully chosen flowery words. Her quick talking was surprisingly out of character.

"Hear what?" Magnus asked, making a 'get on with it' motion with his hands.

"Pothinus gave Caesar's soldiers our worst grain. Servants eat better food than that." Camille delivered the statement with a grin that Magnus found himself copying. Even the smallest rebellion against Caesar counted. But something nagged in the back of Magnus' mind. Alexander and his friend. Magnus didn't like the idea of the beautiful boy eating the animals' food.

"Where are they?" Magnus asked.

Camille gave him a strange look. "Mess room. Why in the name of Ra does it matter, Magnus?"

Magnus shrugged. "No reason, only simple curiosity."

"Mmhmm. I'm sure that's exactly what it is." She scrutinized him with the air of someone who knows much more than they should. Magnus tried to look nonchalant, and eventually Camille shrugged and left.

As Magnus retreated down the dark hallway, he scolded himself. _Get him out of your head! He will only bring trouble. Some pretty boy isn't worth that price. _But even as he thought it, the delicate face framed in dark curls appeared once again. Magnus imagined what he would look like laughing, crying, and he knew that Alexander was not just another pretty boy.

Magnus burst into his quarters and began pacing. He wanted so badly to make sure the guards-well one guard on particular-were decently fed_. But how?_ He thought. With all the security and surveillance around this place, somebody ought to notice a Lector Priest taking pity on the enemy. Magnus laughed harshly. That was exactly what he was considering. Becoming a traitor to his king.

**Reviews are love 3**


	5. Chapter 5

**This took a little longer to write than we hoped, sorry. But here it is! An update at long last. Thank you for all the fantastic reviews! *blushes* Seriously, you guys are the best. :) **

**Cassandra owns the boys, not Cat nor I. It would be disastrous if we did...**

* * *

Alec's stomach clenched as a stab of hunger shot through his body. All he had eaten since breakfast had been the spoiled grain, and after a four hour training session with Simon and about half of his watch already over, Alec was beginning to feel the effects. To make matters worse, he was stationed outside of Caesar's quarters with Raphael. _Could this trip get any worse? _Obviously, it could.

Down the corridor came the woman Alec had seen at breakfast. What was her name? Belatrix? No. Bacon? Nope. Belcourt! Yes, Priestess Belcourt was strutting down the hallway in such extravagance that it would put Venus herself to shame.

"Hello, boys," she purred, looking over the two guards with the sly and seductive gaze Alec had noticed accompanied her constantly. She began walking towards the doors of Caesar's apartment, so Alec and Raphael crossed their spears, barring the way. "What?" She asked in a falsely innocent tone. "Not gunna let me through?" Her Latin was smooth, and her words flowed like silk.

Suddenly, she grabbed Alec by the chestpiece and hissed in his ear, "I'm on to you, boy. Your little act? It hasn't fooled me for a second. What do your buddies think about you making googly eyes at handsome men?" Raphael managed to push her off of him just then, and she walked slowly down the hallway, swaying her hips and laughing softly. "Send your boss my best," she called as she turned a corner. Then she was gone.

Throughout the rest of his watch, the priestess' words echoed in Alec's ears. He began to feel sick to his stomach. _Why _do_ I find him attractive? _He thought to himself. _These feelings are forbidden. You have got to let them go. Besides, underneath all this bull shit diplomacy, these people are my enemies. Including... him. _

The moment Caesar emerged from his room with Theodotus, a close 'friend' of his, Alec perked up immediately. A distraction was welcome, even if Caesar decked out in armor with his right-hand man beside him wasn't exactly a good sign.

Caesar didn't acknowledge Alec or Raphael, even when the two guards followed after him down the hall. He simply continued addressing Theodotus.

"I'm sure Felix will be able to handle running the camp in your place, Theodotus. You've been teaching him personally. Anyways, we're going to need some extra shelters for my soldiers here in Alexandria. The city isn't used to so many people flocking here at one time. I will oversee the production, but you must give the orders. I have other duties to go about completing," he instructed.

_Wow, talk about vague as fuck, _Alec thought bitterly. Apparently, Caesar wanted to drag him and the other guards out into Alexandria just to stand around and watch Caesar watch other soldiers work. Alec could think of better ways to spend what little he had left of his afternoon. His watch had taken six hours and every sinew of his being was telling him to screw it and go to bed early.

* * *

Alec felt a pressure on his shoulder and glanced over- Simon was wiping his forehead on Alec's sleeve _again_.

"You know, I'm not _actually _a sweat rag," Alec informed him.

Simon shrugged. "I don't know, someone has to be. And your sleeves are the longest. Look, I don't even have any." He did have sleeves, but Alec didn't bother arguing. Somehow the Egyptian city managed to be unbearably hot even _after _the sun had set; it was too hot to try and put up a fight, especially if Simon was in the beginning stages of loosing his mind. It was too hot to do _anything._

He and the other nine guards were all stationed outside of Caesar's tent. They looked pretty much exhausted and Alec wasn't sure why the Egyptians didn't use this time to attack. Some Egyptian peasant could've walked into Caesar's tent and the most Alec would've done to try to stop him would be wave an arm at him pitifully and moan.

"This _sucks,_" Alec said. He didn't have to use any other words; that summed it up perfectly.

"At least we aren't them," Luke pointed out. He nodded at a group of centurions a few yards away. They were devoid of armor and trying to put up a small tent. It wasn't hard work, but in the horrible Alexandrian heat, Alec didn't blame the slow pace they were working with.

"Good point. You know, about a week ago that would've been me. Now I'm top dog," Simon bragged, throwing his arms behind his head and looking very superior for someone who was just rubbing his face all over Alec because he didn't like sweat on his face.

"Caesar is top dog," Raphael reminded.

"Thanks, I didn't realize," Simon growled.

"I did." Alec turned around slowly and stared at Caesar. He looked only vaguely annoyed at being talked about behind his back. "Come along, we're going back to the palace. It's late and I've finished writing."

Who Caesar could possibly be writing about, Alec had no idea. Probably himself, if he had to guess. Caesar was his own biggest fan, so it was very plausible.

The group entered the palace doors and Caesar assigned Simon and Eric for night guard. That was slightly disconcerting, because Alec and Simon couldn't switch off sleeping schedules. Neither of them trusted the Egyptians still, and the knowledge that they had each other's backs was the only thing keeping Alec from going from weary of the Egyptians to scared of them completely.

Alec opened the door of his barracks and froze. Someone was sprawled out onto his bed, snoring softly. A small bowl of rice was on the bedside table next to him. Alec closed the door softly behind him and inched forward.

It was Magnus.

The priest was in servants clothing. He had no makeup or jewelry, and only wore a thick, plain skirt. _Of course; that's how he managed to get in here in the first place, _Alec thought. _Only servants are allowed entrance to anyone's barracks._ Alec inched closer and saw, to his surprise, Magnus wasn't Egyptian at all. He seemed from a different foreign extraction all together, and Alec couldn't quite place a name to it. He wasn't sure if his mysterious race must've made it easier for people to believe he could work magic or not. Probably the former, considering his status.

"M-Magnus?" Alec lightly shook the man's arm, but he stubbornly remained asleep. _I want to be this deep of a sleeper, _Alec thought. _It must be nice not to be woken up by every small little sound._ "Magnus, wake up." Alec leaned in and shook his shoulders a little rougher.

"Mmhh?" Magnus mumbled, shaking his head. "Shut up, Ragnor. I don't wanna get up."

"Uhm, I'm not Ragnor," Alec muttered.

At this Magnus' eyes snapped open. Like usual, Alec's stomach flip flopped at the sight of his beautiful green eyes. "Oh, hello Alexander. Fancy meeting you here," the priest said happily. He sat up and patted next to him, inviting Alec to sit.

"Well it _is _my room," Alec said with a small smile. He sat down next to Magnus and raised his eyebrows when the bowl of rice from the table was handed to him. "What's this for?"

"I was just bringing this to you, but I may have fallen asleep. You were out with Caesar for a long time," Magnus said sheepishly. "Anyway, I heard about the whole thing with Pothinus. Figured you'd be hungry."

Alec's stomach growled at the smell of the food and he blushed. "Are you sure? You've been here this whole time, I doubt you've eaten."

Magnus looked amused. "Oh, quit that whole politeness thing. You're starving. Eat up." He motioned to the rice and Alec wasted no time devouring the whole bowl in a few minutes. Magnus smiled like it was Alec who had done _him _ a favor the whole time. "Like a man starved," Magnus chuckled.

Alec shook his head and put the bowl back on the table. "Nope, just a man forced into eating stale grain. I won't complain, though. It's not too bad." He doubted Magnus would believe him after his little show of inhaling the food like his life depended on it. It was a lie, anyways. The centurions were always well-fed so that they could keep up their strength.

"Oh, of course it isn't. You being a super-tough soldier and all," Magnus said sarcastically. He was smiling though, and his good mood somehow pierced through Alec's sleepiness.

"You know I wasn't bragging," Alec mumbled. His bluntness was slightly embarrassing, but Alec couldn't think of other way to put it.

Thankfully, Magnus just yawned and nodded. "I know you aren't. You don't seem like the bragging type, which is kind of weird for a Roman. Usually you guys are all high and mighty. That _is _so weird."

Alec grinned when he realized the usually smooth-talking priest was just rambling. "You seem pretty tired. Want me to walk you to your room?" he asked. He didn't want to stop talking, but Magnus did seem exhausted, and it seemed like a pretty dick move to just make him wander the hallways of the palace until he ran into his room in the state he was in.

"Sure, sounds like fun," Magnus said. He stood up and grabbed Alec's hand.

The two walked, hand-in-hand, down the hallways Magnus claimed led to his room. At first Alec was uncomfortable with it, but when the priest nearly fell onto his face from tripping on a small rock, letting him go wasn't in question anymore. Alec knew he was being ridiculous, but even after the months away from his siblings he still had his overprotective tendencies.

"This is my room!" Magnus whisper-yelled. "Want to come in?"

Alec blushed and shook his head. "You have to go to sleep." He opened the door to the room and Magnus pouted.

"True, I am a little bit sleepy," Magnus said. "I guess I'll see you in the morning then."

Alec was going to reply, but Magnus' lips were on his before he could get a single word out. Alec gasped a little against Magnus' mouth and held onto one of the priest's wrists to keep himself from stumbling backwards in surprise. Magnus pulled away, flashed a smile, and turned towards his door.

"Y-yeah. I'll see you in the morning. Good night," Alec stuttered, surprised with himself that he could even get those words out. His mouth was still warm from where Magnus' lips had touched his, and he kind of missed the quick, fleeting kiss. He reluctantly let go of Magnus' wrist and stepped back.

"Good night, Alexander," Magnus said softly, before closing his door.

**Well, it's about time that happened, hm? I was getting annoyed, and I write this :) **


	6. Chapter 6

**Crap, it's been like two weeks. Sorry! It's kind of tough to fit writing in between school work and being dragged to family events and that jazz. I'd much rather spend time writing. **

**... I don't know what Catherine's excuse is.**

**Anyway, we own nothing, sadly. *sigh***

* * *

Alec ran his fingers through his hair, turned, and paced the length of his room yet again. He hadn't gotten any sleep the previous night thanks to a very specific, very hot, priest.

_What the fuck am I thinking? Kissing is definitely not a good idea. I barely know the guy. How long have I been here? Two days? And I'm already kissing random priests. Shit. _

Not to mention, he could practically hear his father screaming at him from back in Rome. No, Robert was not going to be pleased. He sent his son with Caesar, not only to keep the Lightwood family on the dictator's good side, but to beat out Alec's unusual tendencies by sending him to _fight _men, not kiss them. _A relationship with Magnus where I _kiss _him does not work. At all. Nope, I can't do this, _Alec thought. _Maybe I should talk to him? I know it's acceptable for men to… sleep together, but an actual romantic relationship is out of question. Especially after what happened last time. _

Alec groaned and quickened his pacing. It did _not _help when he spotted the silver bowl that had held the contents of the rice from the previous night.

"Hey, uh. You okay?" Alec was startled out of his enraged, confused thoughts by Simon's voice. That reminded Alec of another thing. _What in Hades was he thinking, falling asleep in my bed when I so clearly have a _roommate_? Oh shit, last night was the_ best_ possible scenario._

"Yeah, I'm good. W-why do you ask?" Alec asked.

"I've been standing here for a good thirty seconds and you've passed me twice already with your weird cliche pacing. Not that you noticed me," Simon said. "Alec, I'm pretty sure that's not a good sign."

"Just thinking. So what's up? Any news for today?" Alec asked. He honestly didn't know whether or not he wanted to see Magnus. On one hand: the kiss was definitely an action he wanted to repeat. On the other: repeating it would be such an unbelievably stupid thing to do, considering that Alec could never be in a relationship. Not with another man.

"Yeah, actually. You and I get guard duty together! And it's only an hour long, too. In front of Caesar's room. It's the best shift _ever._" Simon grinned.

That was good news. No Egyptian distractions, just good old Simon and regular duties as a guard; the way Alec knew things to be.

* * *

_Oh by Ra, being assigned a curse is a miracle._

Magnus loved curses. He got to make little wax figures and let out his anger on them by ruining them. It was loads of fun. And better yet, he had Ragnor there with him to talk to. Or talk at, depending on who was asked.

"I'm such an idiot," Magnus said for the eighteenth time. "So, so stupid."

Ragnor glanced over and made a pained expression at the small figurine Magnus was constructing. Magnus' hands were shaking; causing the little Apophis snake to look like it had already gone through the destruction process.

"Your skills are lacking today, Mags," Ragnor quipped. Magnus didn't appreciate how Ragnor completely ignored his distress.

"I'm serious! If I hadn't let my stupid emotions take over, he wouldn't hate me," Magnus groaned.

"How do you even know he hates you? Have you spoken since last night?" Ragnor glared at Magnus like he was the stupidest person he'd ever met.

"I just know, Ragnor. And no, we haven't, because he's been avoiding me!"

"And you know this how?"

In all truth, Magnus didn't really know this. He hadn't seen Alexander deliberately stay away from him at all. He just hadn't seen him. But still. From what he recalled, whenever Magnus kissed anyone they always came back for more. But Alec hadn't bothered to try and contact him at all. Magnus was getting extremely stressed out.

"No one has been able to resist my charm for this long. He can't be interested! That's the only explanation. He's rejecting me quietly, as to not hurt my feelings." Magnus pressed his palms against his temple and groaned. "He's even a gentleman when _breaking up_ with me."

Ragnor's hand jerked and he indented his former immaculate wax figure. "Breaking up?! Gods, Magnus, you are over thinking this in the worst possible way. You and Alec are _not_ in a relationship after one kiss, so he can't _break up_ with you. Also: gentleman? He's a guard of Caesar. That's the worst type of person I can think of, besides the man himself. And possibly that peasant boy who throws rocks at me. Now shut up about Alexander before I throw this wax in your face."

Magnus smirked. "Sorry, but that's so not going to happen. I'll talk about Alec until I'm certain he likes me. And you can't throw the wax in my face, because even you can respect how my appearance for the House of Life must be perfect. If I'm going to become a member, I can't show up with wax all over me."

"You're never going to quit mentioning that either, huh?" Ragnor growled.

"Why shouldn't I? It's an honor for me to be able to teach future priests about the ways of magic!" Magnus said. He waggled his fingers in front of Ragnor's face and laughed. In response, his lovely fellow priest slapped his hands out of the way.

"Oh please. Most likely, you'll just end up sorting books in the back," Ragnor snarled.

"I'm a Lector priest! That would be a waste of my talents," Magnus defended. "You're just jealous. I'm going to be teaching the House of Life's most promising students. They picked me, not you, because I'm friendly. Also, slightly more skilled. But friendly. You should work on being a little more like me, you know."

Ragnor rolled his eyes and put his figurine on the temple floor. Magnus quickly finished up his drawing and put his down next to Ragnor's. "May this destroy Apophis' ba and heka…" Ragnor muttered under his breath. Magnus listened respectfully to Ragnor's chant, before eagerly turning to his friend. Ragnor sighed when he met Magnus' eyes. "Are you seriously-"

"Can I do it? Please?" Magnus asked. Technically, Ragnor had said the chant, so he was supposed to destroy the Apophis figurines. But Magnus had to release some of his pent up stress.

"Fine," Ragnor said, letting out a puff of breath. "Go right ahead."

Magnus yelped with excitement and ran over to the wax bits, trampling them mercilessly and cursing. "This is for you, you fucking bastard of a snake," Magnus hissed, kicking a particularly big piece of wax against a wall. He remembered when he had first come to Egypt as a kid and decided to become a priest; this had been the sealing deal for him, knowing that he got to do cursing spells that involved destroying items that had been made to resemble the particular unlucky soul being cursed.

"Give me the pieces of wax that you didn't completely mutilate," Ragnor called out from behind Magnus. "I have the bucket of urine."

_My job is ridiculous, _Magnus thought.

* * *

Alec's head rolled back and his helmet slammed against the wall behind him. The loud ringing that shot through his skull almost drowned out the girl's cries of ecstasy. It was too hard to tell how old she was, but Alec guessed she was his age. Maybe even younger. Either way, she was _loud._

"I guess this is what I get for thinking this shift would be fun," Simon said from beside Alec. "I should stop being such an optimist. It always ends in disappointment. But we should have seen it coming." At Alec's confused look, Simon continued on. "Remember how we established that this is a vacation? Well imagine how tense Caesar must get with all this leading stuff. This is good for him."

"I just hope he doesn't pull a muscle," Alec muttered. He knew Julius wasn't that old, but the idea of his leader having sex with some girl was a little disturbing. Especially when he wondered how she wound up with him. But still, _hearing _Caesar have sex with some girl was much worse.

"It stopped!" Simon cried in victory. Alec perked up; the screams were finally gone. A few moments later, the door cracked open.

"You two may head down to lunch now," Caesar said. Alec could only see his head, but he had no doubt that his state of dress was less than appropriate. Usually, Alec would've insisted staying to ensure his leader's safety. Now though, he just wanted to get as far away as possible from the man.

"Yes, sir," Simon answered for both of the guards. The two booked it.

The moment he entered the lunch room with Simon, Alec's stomach flipped. More rice was laid out so neatly on the table and this time is was soggy and in splintered wooden bowls. No one but Simon and Alec were in the room-the other guards were either training or helping centurions in the city-so Alec leaned forward and examined the bowls. Bits of fruit and unrecognizable foods were mixed up with the grain. _Leftovers, _Alec realized. _We're being fed the combined leftovers of the meal Caesar, Ptolemy and others of the upper-class must have had last night._

"Um, hi. What do you want?" Simon's uncomfortable voice snapped Alec out of his angry thoughts and he looked up sharply. Alec expected a certain beautiful priest, but he was relieved when he saw an obviously terrified servant instead.

"I-I'm giving you these bowls of food," the servant stuttered, before walking swiftly over and placing the bowls on the table. He turned swiftly and left faster than he came.

"Oh my gods! Alec, it's good food. Let's go find the other guys and share it. Shame we only got two bowls..." Simon said. But Alec wasn't paying him any attention. He looked out the door the servant had left from and found exactly who he'd been assuming would be there. Magnus was dressed in his usual thin knee-length shirt and jewelry. He had a leopard skin draped around his shoulders. _He's been doing magic,_ Alec thought. Magnus grinned when he met Alec's eyes and dropped a wink, turning to talk away when he was sure Alec's eyes were on him. _Damn him, _Alec thought. _How am I supposed to concentrate now? I have to _talk _to him. _

"Let's not. Tell anyone, I mean. Because we don't, like, want anyone to talk about this. Whoever's giving us the food is breaking Pothinus' and Ptolemy's wishes and we don't want to get him in trouble, right? Plus, obviously it's just for us. Two bowls, remember?" Alec quickly shut his mouth, but Simon didn't mention his rambling. _Idiot. Way to be suspicious. _

"Him?" was all Simon asked.

"Or her. You know. Whatever," Alec muttered.

"Yeah... Well, whatever you say chief. I just figured sharing would be nice, that's all," Simon said. "Not that I know how the guards usually work. I'm kind of new to all this, no matter how hard it is to tell. I'm pretty good at it." He grinned and nodded, as if he was affirming his own skills for himself.

"Sharing isn't nice. Sharing is for barbarians," Alec said, shoving some grain into his mouth. "See? Taste this. I wouldn't want to give it to anyone else."

Simon shrugged and started eating. Alec flinched a little when Simon gave him his best 'oh you're in _that_ type of mood' look. _I can't let him think anything's wrong, _Alec thought.

* * *

"Come along." Ptolemy snapped his chubby, jewelry-adorned fingers and trotted to what Magnus liked to call the 'Room Of Painful Meetings With The Enemies'. Caesar had something important to announce, yet again, and Magnus could not fucking care less. Also, Alexander was going to be there. And Magnus would not be able to talk to him. It was going to be _torturous. _

"I think I have a pretty good idea of what this meeting is going to be about," Camille said quietly. Magnus looked at his friend, not exactly feeling comforted by the knowing glint in her emerald eyes. Camille looked like anyone who had the slightest bit of information on an upcoming murder conspiracy would look.

"And what might that be?" Ragnor asked. The new priest nodded, trying to encourage her.

"Spoilers," she snickered. "You'll find out soon enough. But I'm sure his guards know _all _about it."

... That wasn't comforting either.

Ptolemy was the first to walk into the room, followed by his four Lector priests as well as Pothinus and Achillas. Caesar was sitting at the head of the table with a beautiful Egyptian woman standing next to him. She looked vaguely familiar, but Magnus didn't dwell on that. Instead, he was distracted by something else entirely; the Roman guards that were lined along the room's walls. Magnus was quick to find Alexander. The black haired boy looked down and blushed when Magnus met his eyes. _Is that a bad sign...? Oh Ra, the stress I'm getting from this boy will have me weighing my heart a few years early for sure, _Magnus thought.

"Come in, sit down. Please, make yourselves comfortable," Julius Caesar said, motioning to the table. Magnus took one step forward, but stopped when he noticed his pharaoh. Ptolemy stood, rigid and wide-eyed. He openly gawked at the lady standing besides Caesar. Magnus rolled his eyes. _Teenage boy hormones, _he thought with disdain, _He acts as if he's never seen a young woman before. _"Pharaoh Ptolemy. Please. _Sit down._"

Ptolemy walked over and sat down at the table, never once looking away from the young woman. Pothinus and Achillas sat besides Ptolemy and Magnus motioned to the other priests. They sat down on the opposite side of Ptolemy and his two constant shadows.

"What... is _she _doing here?" When Ptolemy spoke, his voice was laced with barely-controlled anger that shocked Magnus. "You," Ptolemy addressed the Egyptian woman, "are supposed to be exiled."

That was all it took for the situation at hand to click. _  
_

_Oh shit. _

Caesar frowned and scowled slightly. "Shouldn't you be welcoming your sister back to your empire with open arms?" He looked at the rest of the table's occupants. "I would like you all to meet my _friend__, _Cleopatra. She and I have quite a close relationship, so I have invited her back into Egypt. This is alright with you, of course, Pharaoh?"

Magnus glanced at Ptolemy. Judging by the smaller boy's expression, it was _not _alright with him.

"I-I exiled you! Get out of here, Cleopatra. _I'm __the ruler!_" Ptolemy yelled. He slammed a small fist on the table and shoved a finger in Caesar's direction. "How could you? She does not belong here!"

"That's very rude, brother dear," Cleopatra said, smiling wickedly. The sound of her voice was beautiful and Magnus looked up with interest. The look in Cleopatra's brown eyes was of defiance and a slight hit of victory. For a split second, she reminded Magnus of Camille. "Father gave us _both _the throne. I can't expect you to hog it. Though I enjoyed my short stay in Syria, I am very happy to finally return home."

"You will _not _be ruling at all. I forbid it. Do not expect to have any power, Cleopatra. I am in charge," Ptolemy told her, voice cool. He was glaring at Julius. Magnus knew his pharaoh could not send Cleopatra back into exile if she had the Roman dictator's support, but that did not mean Ptolemy would not do a thing about it.

"There's no need to be so hostile; we're all friends here," Caesar said with a winning smile. "Anyways, you are all invited to a banquet to celebrate the lovely Cleopatra's return to the palace. I will host this event in two days. It will be the perfect thing to express our happiness at the lovely queen's arrival."

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